Alice in Neverland
by Eva Sirico
Summary: When Alice is invited to tea by her elderly neighbor, Mr. Roberts, she sits down to listen to an incredible story about a man called Sir James Matthew Barrie, and the truth behind the story of Peter Pan. Her head whirling with the impossible, Alice returns home with her mother only to find that the impossible has suddenly become reality. PeterxOC


**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan**

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_All children, except one, grow up. -_Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie

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"Alice! Come on, dear. We're going to visit Mr. Roberts for a little bit." I looked up from my contemplation of my tea to see my mother dressed and ready to go at the door. Her benign smile flashed at me, making the lines of weariness disappear from her face, even for a moment.

"Mr. Roberts?" I asked in surprise. I had only visited the elderly gentleman once, and that had been a long time ago. I remember I was nervous, clinging to my mother's skirt while the kindly gentleman smiled at me and offered me tea.

"Yes. He invited us over for tea." She looked up as my father walked into the room, dressed still in his business suit. She instantly lit up. "Oh, George, darling! Alice and I are off to visit Mr. Roberts."

"Alright. I shall see you soon, then." My father disappeared behind a newspaper, and silence reigned in the room. I caught a look of despair on my mother's face before the usual exhausted countenance returned. Silently, I followed my mother out of the house and into the street. As we walked down the sidewalk, I tentatively struck up a conversation about a book I had been reading.

The talk managed to distract my mother for a few minutes until we arrived at Mr. Roberts door. It was a fine house, covered in ivy and in a respectable neighborhood. My mother rang the doorbell, and a woman in a maid's uniform answered promptly.

We were ushered into the sitting room. It was finely decorated, hinting at money. Looking around, I remembered being in here, many years ago, hiding behind my mother. My mother had said we were there to support Mr. Roberts, because his wife died of sickness. My thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Roberts walked into the room. He was a tall man, dressed finely. His hair was a shock of white, as was his matching mustache, but his bright blue eyes were kind, and I immediately felt myself relax in his presence.

"Mrs. Cooper, a pleasure," Mr. Roberts greeted my mother, clasping her hand. He then turned to me. "Alice, my dear. You have grown up quite a bit." Though his tone was light, there was a flicker of sadness at his words, and I was confused for a moment.

He turned away and bade us to sit down. He and Mother chatted about menial things while I quietly sipped my tea. Eventually, the maid once again entered, quietly informing Mr. Roberts of another visitor.

Mrs. Young entered, a delicate smile on her face. My mother stood up to greet her friend, while I remained sitting, sipping my tea. After the initial greetings were over, Mr. Roberts said, "I was wondering if I may have a word with young Alice here."

Surprise was the present emotion among the three of us. "Of course," Mother agreed, and she and Mrs. Young stood up.

Mr. Roberts stood as well. "My maid, Jane, will take you to the drawing room. We will join you shortly." Jane showed my mother and Mrs. Young out, and all too soon I was left with Mr. Roberts.

It was silent for a moment, as Mr. Roberts stood staring off into space. With a deep sigh, he walked over to a desk in the corner. "Have you fully grown up, my dear Alice?"

"I'd like to think that I can still be a child occasionally," I answered truthfully.

"How old are you?" From a locked drawer, Mr. Roberts withdrew a battered book.

"Fourteen, sir." I watched as he came back and sat down across from me, holding the book delicately in his hands. I could see that the book had a dark blue cover, but there were no words on it. The pages seemed to be yellowed and wrinkled with age.

"Fourteen," Mr. Roberts murmured, glancing down at the book. "Have you heard of a man called Sir James Matthew Barrie?"

"No, sir," I answered slowly, wracking my brains. I couldn't remember ever hearing that name in my school...

Mr. Roberts leaned back, letting out a sigh. "J.M. Barrie was a bright man, a very bright man. He loved to read, and he wrote a number of stories and plays."

He sighed again. "Before I continue with Sir Barrie, I suppose I must reveal a little bit of information about myself. You see, I have no idea where I was born. I do not remember where I came from. This may sound a bit crazy, dear, but I lived in a place called Neverland."

"Neverland?" I asked, testing the word out on my tongue.

"Yes," he clarified. "Neverland. I was one of the seven Lost Boys. My name was Scout. Oh, the grand adventures that we would have; fighting pirates and Indians, exploring the island, visiting the mermaids in the lagoon... All under Peter Pan's direction, of course. Anything that Peter did, we did as well. Anything that Peter couldn't do was never mentioned." The old man let out a fond laugh, immersed in memories.

I remained silent. Pirates? Mermaids? I was beyond confused, and even started to think that perhaps the elderly man sitting across from me was becoming rather mad.

He caught sight of my expression and smiled gently. "My dear, I assure you I am quite sane. I do not expect you to believe me at first, but please do hear me out." He cleared his throat. "Peter Pan's enemy was the captain of the Jolly Roger, the pirate ship. His name was Captain James Hook."

"Why Hook?" I asked curiously. Just a small part of me started to believe him. He seemed so sure and confident in this story, and did not seem to be mad like I had previously thought.

Mr. Roberts held up a hand and shaped it like a hook. "Peter Pan, in one of his earlier duels with Hook, cut off his hand and fed it to the crocodile! Now ever since then, the crocodile has been following Hook, eager for another taste..."

I shuddered, and Mr. Roberts smiled and continued. "There was a peculiar adventure that I remember quite well. Peter once brought back a mother for us. Her name was Wendy Moira Angela Darling." He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Tootles, one of the other Lost Boys, shot her down at Tinkerbell's request. She was alright; the arrow hit her kiss."

"Kiss?" I asked, confused. "And who is Tinkerbell?"

"Her thimble," Mr. Roberts explained. "It's what we used to call a kiss. Tinkerbell was a pixie."

"Like a fairy?" I asked, in awe.

"Precisely." Mr. Roberts beamed, happy at the fact that I was so enraptured in his story. "She could be spiteful and jealous, but we all loved her. Wendy also brought along her two younger brothers, John and Michael."

He continued with the story, telling me of their adventures in Neverland. I was in awe and slowly, little by little, I began to believe him. The part of me that was still a child took over, and in that moment I realized that I didn't want to grow up. Not really. If growing up meant that I couldn't believe in this things, then I didn't want anything to do with it.

"When Wendy, John, and Michael went back to London, I went with them," Mr. Roberts said. A sad little smile alighted on his face. "Tootles almost went with us, but changed his mind at the last second. No one else was ready to grow up, but I was. I wanted to see the world.

"I eventually lived next door to a man called Mr. Barrie. I told him all about our adventures over tea one day, and he was fascinated. He wrote them all down in a book, but I requested that he leave me out of it." He held up the blue book. "To this day, there are only six Lost Boys, but there were in fact seven."

I looked at the book, fascinated. "Is that..."

He nodded. "It's one of the first copies of Peter Pan by Sir James Matthew Barrie. I have kept it for all these long years. It is my most precious item." He hesitated for a moment, looking at it, before offering it to me. I looked at him in surprise, and he explained, "I am old. I want someone else to read this and remember the truth. Mr. Barrie did get some things wrong, and I fixed them in here. Please. Take it. Take it as a gift, and remember what I told you here today."

I accepted the book slowly, before looking up at the kindly old man. "Thank you, Mr. Roberts! I will. I promise I shall remember!"

That sad little smile returned. "Good." He stood up, and I quickly climbed to my feet as well. "The hour grows late, and I fear we have detained your mother long enough." I followed him out of the room, clutching the book to me, Mr. Roberts' story reverberating through my mind.

It was impossible... The whole thing highly unlikely... Everything I was taught up until this point stood against it.

And yet...

What if it was all true?

My mother and I said our goodbyes and began the walk home. "What did you and Mr. Roberts talk about, Alice?" she asked curiously, glancing at the book in my hands.

"He told me a story," I said, my mind still far away in Neverland with Peter Pan, Scout, and the Lost Boys.

"That's nice, dear," she replied softly, staring ahead. "I know how much you like them."

The rest of the walk home was silent, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts. We returned home, where Mother prepared dinner, which was eaten in silence as usual.

Later that night, when I was preparing for bed, I glanced over at the book. I crossed the room and picked it up, holding it delicately in my hands. "What I wouldn't give for an adventure like Wendy had!" I said, smiling a little bit.

"Whose to say you won't?" a deep voice replied from the window.

I whipped around. There, standing on the balcony outside the window, was a tall man dressed in exquisite red clothing. Curly black hair fell far past his shoulders, while the matching red hat had a feather placed in it.

Frozen, I could only watch as the man brought up a hand to tap his chin, smirking at me.

Only... there was no hand.

It was a hook.

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A/N

Hello and welcome to the story! I was rewatching the Disney version of Peter Pan when I realized that I wanted to write a fanfiction... so here I am! This fanfiction will be based on a mixture of the Disney movie and the book, as well as maybe the 2003 movie if I get around to watching it again.

Please review!

~Eva Sirico~


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